Gave in to Dad Major last night and agreed to stop looking for the Inverness I recalled from a 10K a few years ago and ended up on some out of town circular road. To be fair, it was alright. Next to the Old Distillery pub it was more mouth than action (nothing new in my life) but the food was OK and although retreating to the room wasn't exactly a holiday pleasure, there have been a lot worse places on this Tour. As you know.
Sent the Majors on a task to find the Inverness I knew though, with map (no Sat Nav), camera and detailed instructions. They found it, they say. I will need to see the alleged photos to check. But not today.
Ever since Albert took over as Admiral of HMS Ruston in Stirling, I've felt very calm. Except when I cry. I've cried oceans the past four days as I've been mostly by myself in huge swathes of Scotland. Luckily, one of the doctors that had the pleasure of my unsmelly self earlier this year gave me 'Permission to Cry'.
As I declared my impatience with myself for blubbing (as a trait I didn't recognise in myself) he said it was good to cry. Talking helps get out the words (I had a lot of counselling earlier this year) but crying gets out the emotion. And I seem to have had a lot of that these past two weeks.
People keep sending texts asking me to talk about subjects on this Blog. The trouble is, I'm a really private person and I don't do talking about private stuff. Never mind emotion. On the other hand, I'm happy to share with (the world) on this Blog my ups and downs on this 3rd challenge.
Feel very aware there wasn't a lot of up and it all seems like I've whinged a lot each night - so lots of down. It's odd because I've always been described as 'Happy-go-Lucky' since I was a small child. I can usually find a positive in any experience. Or at least stretch one.
I've been told that a lot of people are reading this Blog so I'm also concious of trying to preserve a degree of anonymity for those people that are my real life that spill over in to this place and would rather not. Which makes me sound like a fictional character in this Challenge. Sometimes you can't win for losing.
The trouble is that we are mostly defined by our relationships - good or bad - and it's hard not to think about folk when you've been cycling for 1000 miles, give or take a 1000.
Mum Major asked me what I think about as I cycled along, the other day. Mostly, I have to concentrate and there isn't a lot of thinking time. I've fallen off the bike a zillion times in the run up to this challenge over the past 18 months. My worst fall was at the end of an evening in London just back on the London Bridge side of Tower Bridge. I normally fall in to the kerb but this time in a lot of traffic, you can imagine, I fell in to the road. I broke my ribs on my wedding day years ago (more accident prone than my daughter, Babe) and having a jolt on weak wounds in full traffic did for my confidence in a way that is difficult to describe.
Except, believe it or not (and I know most people that meet me would not believe me) I don't have a lot of confidence. I have to make it. Every single day.
When Dad Major asked why I didn't listen to music as I bumble along on the bike, I don't think he could quite believe that I need to watch and hear the traffic all the time. It's my biggest danger because I'm not a natural cyclist. I'm punching leagues above myself in this Challenge and even I don't know when I will make a complete F*** U* of it. Although I guarantee you, I will. I'm really good at failing.
I think in life, if you were to ask me what I'm really good at, I'd say failing. I'm not competitive. I don't get it. The only person I compete with is me. A lot of people don't understand that about me. If I had to choose a sport to compete in, it would be a time trial. Me against me. Any arena you like. Put me in on a line with other contestants in a competition and I'm sorry but no. I'd rather not waste your time. It doesn't fire my cylinders.
Which brings me to the question everyone always asks. So, why do you do this?
The short answer is money. People (and Men in particular) give me a lot of money as a result of these challenges. When a bloke gives you £50K - no strings - you're hardly going to say 'Thanks. But no thanks'.
The long answer - I doubt anyone has time. I've had an extremely privileged life. I've travelled the entire world endlessly. It started as a child and it didn't end until lately. I went off looking for something and I searched and I searched and I searched. Every temple, every site, every place - ask me. I'd been there and looked.
I didn't know what I was looking for until recently. I thought I was admiring civilisation - Angkor Wat killed me. Over and over and over. But I like most places for what they are good at. For whatever they are good at. It doesn't have to be much and often, in the wilds of the world, it hasn't been a lot. But the human spirit always prevails, no matter where you go.
Today was the best weather day by 12 days. The greatest thing about staying in the Premier Inn Inverness is leaving it at 7.30am. Going south back to Daviot was a pleasure. Following an inland route in the early morning frost with no traffic on a Saturday morning at 8.00am was a triumph. I think the Majors will prove that in their photos. I really hope they do.
I admire people that have courage. I don't have any of it. Yesterday a friend advised me to visualise what it would feel like to have finished. I'm not sure what you will think I will say but I think you'll be surprised when I say this.
Empty.
That's how I've felt after the past two challenges. Cleaned out. Scooped out. Raw. Never proud. Which is the word that all the people I know mention. Pride. Now there's a word that can get you in to a lot of trouble. I don't get a post exercise buzz. I'm not sure what people mean when they talk about endorphin rushes. I've never felt that. Although I do like feeling like I did what I say I would do. If you get me to sign, I will never let you down. A lot of talking never impresses me. I'm action, no words. THANKS.
Perhaps it's my training but I'm not a natural risk taker. I see risks, I understand them and I can advise you whether to take them or not. My job is to be risk aware but not risk adverse. That's your job - to decide the level of risk you are prepared to take. I'll take risks to raise money but I'll tell you right now that if I weren't raising money, I wouldn't be here tonight, 55 miles short of target in Brora having backed up 10 miles from Helmsdale in the dark. If I weren't raising money, I'd not have completed two challenges so far and definitely not this one. It's too hard.
I have no courage. I'm a spineless no hoper. Sorry but no myth to dispel there!! I've been hugely, amazingly, lucky to have had the pleasure of amazingly courageous people in my life. All my life. I'm a poor imitation of life and art. But I try. And God loves a trier. Usually.
I think, I hope and I'm planning to get that picture at JOG tomorrow and to leave an old life behind tomorrow. The thing I looked for all my old life, all over the world in places most people couldn't spell, never mind visit, isn't all that easy to say on a Blog or outloud. It's about being brave. So perhaps I'll down a Medicine or two before fessing up.
80 miles at least today, in blue skies, on empty beaches and in cool temperatures, Albert had it all arranged for me. Planned down to the last 55 miles. All that rain, wind, sleet, frost, traffic and un-fun for 900 miles and then his moment has arrived. You can't argue with the scenery or the route. And there is Albert. Mr Scenic Route.
I went looking for me. I looked and I looked and I looked. It took my oldest Friend to point out 3yrs ago that I wasn't the Sarah he knew. The real challenge is to find who she is. Perhaps tomorrow, is a step closer. Though I think it's a time to go away for a while so though I will report on what I expect will be the end tomorrow, I think you will have to wait for next year's Challenge Blog to know what really happened next.
XX
No comments:
Post a Comment